A baby, laid low in a manger,
Announced by a heavenly choir;
Worshipped by shepherds and wise men
Who followed the light of His star.

A young boy, late in the Temple,
Instructing the mighty and great;
Gently rebuking His parents,
Who knew of His Royal estate.

A young man, filled with God's Spirit,
Walking by Lake Galilee;
Restoring the sick and the sinful,
Causing the blind ones to see.

A great King, riding a donkey,
'Mid loud "Hosannas" of praise;
He knew they would cry, "Crucify Him!"
With the passing of but a few days.

Son of God, nailed to a cross-tree,
With thorns a crown for His head;
Men spat in His face and reviled Him--
Then the King of Glory was dead!

On the third day: Mary came mourning,
In the quiet gloom of the dawn;
The stone had been rolled from the gravesite,
And the Body of Jesus was gone!

Disciples, in fear having hidden,
Now joined by the One Who had died!
Revealing Himself to His loved ones,
By nailprints, and deeply pierced side!

O this is the story of Christmas:
God came down and dwelt on our sod
To die for men's sins, and redeem them;
To reconcile men to their God!

This God-man is now Lord of Glory:
My Savior, Who set my soul free;
And now as I walk in His Spirit,
This God-man is living in me!

Dear friend, won't you take Him this Christmas--
Believe Him, and trust in His Word?
For the Baby they laid in that manger
Has become our Redeemer and Lord!